Darkness Falls
by swallowingtears
Summary: She knew that voice, but whose was it? "I want you," he blurted. "I won't lose to him. You . . . you're mine." Sakura stays late one evening at school and hears a desperate confession.
1. Chapter 1

**Darkness Falls, Chapter One**

**Author:** **swallowingtears**

**Disclaimer:** No profit is being made off this fanfiction. No challenge is intended towards CLAMP, the rightful owners of the characters here.

**Warnings:** Only for language.

**Genre: **Romance/Angst.

**Summary: **_She knew that voice.__"I want you," he blurted. "I won't lose to him," he said quietly. "You . . . you're mine." Sakura stays late one evening at school and hears a desperate confession._

**Author's notes at the end of the chapter.**

**xXxSxSxXx**

**Part One: Sunset**

Sakura scribbled as fast as she could, regretting having told Tomoyo and her new suitor Todoh that she would be fine and to go on ahead. How was she supposed to know that those damned math problems would take so long, and that she wouldn't notice the time?

Earlier, it wasn't a problem; the boys outside had been playing football, and the girls had been playing volleyball. Even if she was alone in the classroom, the noise comforted her. It bothered her that she didn't know when the games had ended.

Now the sun had set, and if any building was creepier than Seijyu High at night, she didn't want to know.

She almost laughed at herself, remembering something Li Syaoran, the boy who sat behind her, had once told her during a grade school camping trip: _Ghosts can't hurt you. So don't be scared._

The thought of him reassured her for a moment. Sakura couldn't really remember when she had gone from loving Yukito Tsukishiro to loving Syaoran Li. There wasn't an "Aha!" moment she could point to; instead she noticed that she looked forward to saying "Good morning!" to him every day. He was the reason she had learned to come to school early; she enjoyed the quiet minutes she spent in his company doing pre-class chores.

Sakura liked watching Syaoran move—say, to erase the blackboard, or to water the classroom plants—she delighted in his economy of movement, the way he rarely did unnecessary things. And always, when their eyes met, he seemed to pause, then a tiny, gentle smile would be her reward. She liked to think that he smiled that way only for her—which he did, not that she knew.

She looked outside the window, smiling at the thought of him. Even though he rarely spoke, Syaoran comforted her with his presence; he was steady, patient, reliable, and—though he was kind of gruff—very kind. She could think of him all day—had done so, in fact, on really boring class days: how his eyes turned golden in the sunlight, how she longed to run her hands through his thick, unruly, chocolate-colored locks, he looked at her in the eye when he did speak, how he would never say anything but then suddenly she would find that someone had helped solve a problem she was facing and it would be him.

Sneaking glances at Syaoran made her happy; she liked tracing the lines of his face with her eyes, or the way his forearm rested on his desk, or how he set his feet on the floor. Yes, thinking of him made her happy.

But then as usual, her heart sank. Because to Syaoran, she was just a friend, really, and not even a particularly close one. And that was all she would ever be.

And if she cared to admit it, that was the reason why she had considered allowing Todoh to court her: because she couldn't have Syaoran. In all the years they had known each other, their conversations had rarely turned to the personal; she often chattered away at him, and he would smile his little half-smile as he listened to her patiently.

Glancing at his empty seat, she found herself wishing he was there. Oddly the sight of his chair was comforting but still . . . he wasn't there. Too bad; his quiet presence usually calmed her down when she was scared.

_You don't like being alone?_ he'd once asked her as they finished painting props for a school play late one night in school.

She nodded, and he'd walked her home. Even if he'd said nothing except "Good night, see you tomorrow," at her gate, it was one of her most treasured memories. She'd skipped for joy, unable to control herself, and was surprised when he'd let out a little chuckle. Then he had smiled, really smiled, for her.

No one else had ever seen that big smile of his, and it had felt like bathing in sunshine.

_Stop thinking of Li-kun and finish your math problems! _she scolded herself. She set to it with a vengeance, quickly computing the value of _x if y=23_, filling her scratch paper with frenzied calculations. The room was getting dark, and she kept meaning to stand up and turn on the rest of the room lights, but it was always _just one more line . . . just one more number . . ._

Suddenly she finished the last calculation; checking over her work quickly, she realized she was actually done.

"Yatta!" she cheered, pumping her fist. Now she could go home! Maybe her dad had made breaded shrimp; how she loved breaded shrimp!

_Syaoran usually brought breaded shrimp on the last Friday of the month,_ Sakura suddenly recalled. How her thoughts kept coming back to him! For a moment Sakura was tempted to cry; in a perfect world, Syaoran would be waiting for her, perhaps even tutoring her as she finished her math penalty sheet.

Best of all, he would be talking to her—something he rarely did.

The last time they had had what could be considered a conversation, during the senior class trip last summer, he'd been cryptic.

"_Look, Li-kun! A shooting star!" Sakura pointed up excitedly, almost smacking Syaoran in the face with the barbecue stick she was roasting a marshmallow on._

_Syaoran cast his eyes upwards obediently, and caught the tail end of a shooting star streaking across the skies of Okinawa, where their class had gone for their summer camping trip._

"_I have to make a wish!" Sakura said as she stood up and closed her eyes. "Oooh, maybe I should wish for instant math skills, the kind that make me do great in math!"_

_He didn't reply, and Sakura opened her eyes to find him staring at her intensely._

"_Is . . . is there a problem?" she asked._

"_You shouldn't waste a wish," Syaoran said quietly. _

"_Well, what would you wish for?" Sakura asked curiously._

_He closed his eyes briefly, then opened them again. He reached out, as if to touch her cheek, then his hand faltered halfway, dropping back to his side. Without looking at her, he whispered, "I would wish . . . for you to have a happy life." Then Syaoran walked away, leaving a confused Sakura wondering why he'd said it._

But it was just like Syaoran to be so strangely sweet yet confusing, Sakura thought. Oh if only she had the bravery to tell him what she felt!

Just then she heard someone walk into the classroom, and then . . .

**Click.**

**xXxSxSxXx**

The lights in the classroom went off, and Sakura stood up in alarm.

"Who's there?"

_Ghosts. Darkness. Alone. _The words roiled in Sakura's mind, and she began to shake; she couldn't move for fear of something suddenly coming out of the darkness at her.

But what scared her more was that she couldn't see anything, but she could hear footsteps in the room. She backed away as quietly as she could, wishing she had a weapon like maybe pepper spray, or even her cheerleading baton. But she had nothing.

Sakura backed into a chair, which screeched as she lost her balance, and she yelped as she scrabbled to hold on to something, but before she could fall, someone pushed her back and pinned her to the wall. It was a he: she could smell him, and he smelled like clean linen and a little bit of sweat, like he'd changed after working out. He was tall, and his body was hard and unyielding.

Was she going to be molested . . . or raped?

_Never!_ Sakura struggled, fighting hard, clawing and pushing; the boy however was much stronger. She struggled, trying to reach for his face so she could poke his eyes or nose, but with dismay she realized that in her position, all she could reach was his chin and she could not break free of his hold. He simply pressed her harder against the wall; it didn't hurt but she could feel her heart pounding.

Not being able to see her attacker made it worse, and she kicked out, but in the dark she missed and struck the boy's thigh instead of the sensitive region she was aiming for.

"Don't do that," he said, very quietly, as he pushed her knee away. "Please."

"Why are you doing this? Let me go! Help!" Sakura screamed. A hand came down on her mouth, muffling her.

"Shh." The voice was rough, as if it was rarely used, but oddly nonthreatening. "I'll let go if you don't scream. Nod if you agree."

_That voice._

Low and guttural, Sakura realized whoever it was, was disguising his voice. _He's someone I know then, _she realized. She nodded slowly but with exaggerated motions to make sure he understood, taking a chance that he was not lying.

"Please don't hurt me," she said softly when his hand was lifted. Yamazaki's stories of girls being molested or raped ran through her head, and she could feel tears beginning to form in her eyes.

The boy holding her started. "What? Of-of course not!" He forgot to disguise his voice, yelping indignantly. "I would never . . . I would never hurt you!"

_I know that voice!_ Sakura thought. _But who?_

**xXxSxSxXx**

_This girl . . . Why can't I just tell her, goddamn it?_

Syaoran had spent the better part of half an hour watching Sakura from the door as darkness fell. He had backtracked to school at the last minute—blowing off his friends Eriol Hiiragizawa and Takashi Yamazaki, who were in line to try out the new shooting game at the Tomoeda arcade—when he'd realized that Sakura was staying late at school, alone, because she'd scored a zero on their advanced algebra pop quiz and had to do penalty sheets as a result.

His two friends had seen right through him; they knew about his feelings for Sakura, and had merely laughed it off.

"_Why don't you just tell her?" Eriol said as he adjusted his glasses._

_Syaoran shook his head and looked away. "If . . . if she likes that guy, then . . . I would just be intruding."_

"_They say, 'Good things come to those who wait,' but Li-kun, you've been waiting for years," Takashi said pointedly._

_Glaring at his mischievous friend, Syaoran frowned and turned around, using all of his self-control to keep from bolting in the direction of the school._

The news had reached him that morning, as he pretended not to listen to Sakura talking to her best friend Tomoyo, about how she had been called out by Todoh Akira of section B the other day. His heart had burned with each word.

"_So what did he say, Sakura-chan?" Tomoyo asked._

"_He . . . He said he l-liked me," Sakura said, blushing._

_Syaoran gritted his teeth; Todoh Akira was the captain of the basketball team, and was considered one of the most handsome boys in school. He'd always found Todoh a pleasant person, but right now Syaoran wanted to march up to him and pop him one in the nose. He quietly drew in his breath and pretended to be deep into their World History textbook._

"_Well. I expected that. But are you going to accept?"_

_Sakura glanced at him; seeing that Syaoran seemed occupied and unlikely to be listening, she said softly, "I . . . maybe? He's a nice guy, after all. And I . . . well, I've never had a boyfriend, and I wonder what it's like."_

_To his surprise, Tomoyo had given him a long glance._

"_You shouldn't settle for someone just because you're curious," she said._

"_Well, that's why I haven't said 'yes' yet."_

_Tomoyo then added, "Maybe you should wait for someone else to speak up, ne?" Then she stood up, telling Sakura she was going to the bathroom, but as she passed Syaoran, she gave him one of her enigmatic smiles._

He'd thought on her words all day. Todoh had appeared during lunch and shyly handed Sakura some of her favorite Meiji chocolate; blushing, she accepted it, and Todoh had happily run out into the corridor, bumping into Syaoran.

"Oh . . . Li, sorry about that," he'd apologized. Then, his dark eyes sparkling, Todoh had given Syaoran a silly grin, patted his shoulder, and said, "Gosh, I'm so happy!" before walking away.

Syaoran was rooted to the spot, unable to enter the classroom. Sakura was showing the chocolates to her gaggle of friends, and they were squealing and encouraging her to "Say yes, Sakura, say yes to him!"

_No, don't. Don't say yes to him before I've had my chance,_ Syaoran thought as he clenched his fists and faced the window. But that was a selfish thought, and he knew it. _If he makes her happy . . . then what right do I have to intrude on her happiness?_

"Li-kun," someone said.

Syaoran nearly jumped. "D-Daidouji," he stammered. "What is it?"

Tomoyo looked at him for a long time, and Syaoran fidgeted under her intense scrutiny. Finally she spoke.

"Sometimes . . . sometimes what we think is selfish can be the heart's deepest wish," she said quietly. She did not smile, but added, "Think on it, Li-kun. Please."

And he had.

As usual he spent most of the day with one eye on the back of Sakura's head and the other on the teacher. He was glad he was seated behind her; that way he could watch her to his heart's content. Today she seemed agitated; she tapped her pencil rapidly, rearranged her bag, and glanced at Tomoyo a lot.

_Could she be thinking of saying yes to Todoh? _Syaoran wondered. If so then he didn't have much time in which to act, much less think.

He almost failed all his pop quizzes that day because he was deep in thought. Perhaps he too should confess his feelings to Sakura?

"_What do you like about her?" a curious Takashi Yamazaki asked in their first year of high school._

_He'd thought about that for a while, then, "She's so real," was what he said._

"_Real?" Yamazaki munched on some chips. "Like no plastic parts or surgery?"_

_Syaoran almost smiled. "No. When she laughs, it's because she really finds it funny. When she's hurt, she cries. I . . . I like being around her because I don't have to pretend for her sake."_

"_And that she's rather cute has no bearing on you having liked her for years?" Eriol smoothly inserted into the conversation, grinning._

_Syaoran blushed; he only did so whenever she was mentioned and yes, her big green eyes, cheerful smile, healthily flushed cheeks, and general prettiness attracted him too._

"_It's just a small part," he said. And it was true; Sakura had gorgeous friends, like the breathtakingly beautiful Tomoyo Daidouji, the refined beauty Rika Sasaki, feisty but sexy Chiharu Mihara, and the bookish but lovely Naoko Yanagisawa. But you can't tell the heart who to love, and he'd settled on her._

"_Really, it's all of who she is, the way she makes you feel happy, that life is worth living . . ." he said._

_Yamazaki groaned. "There are better ways to say it, Li-kun. How about, 'she completes me'? Or 'my world starts and ends with her'?_

"_Those are clichés, and she's not a cliché," Syaoran retorted._

"_Point conceded," Yamazaki laughed._

**xXxSxSxXx**

When the bell rang at three o'clock, he was about to tap Sakura on the shoulder, but hesitated when Todoh appeared in the doorway. Syaoran presumed the basketball star was about to get an answer from Sakura, and dejectedly let Eriol and Yamazaki drag him to the arcade.

Todoh, though, arrived at the arcade with his friends a little after Syaoran and his friends had; from judicious eavesdropping, Syaoran learned that Todoh had left Sakura in school as when a friend asked, he said, "She's finishing stuff at school. Told me to go ahead."

_He didn't wait for her?_ Syaoran thought.

And that was when he'd seized his guts and run all the way back to school. He'd paused to catch his breath outside the classroom, and that was when he'd hesitated.

Sakura was looking out the window, deep in thought, and she was smiling, as though remembering something pleasant.

Darkness began to creep into Syaoran's heart, filling him with despair. _She's thinking of Todoh, _he thought, and he released the door handle. _Why am I even here?_

_I have to tell her!_ Syaoran screamed inside his mind. _But how?_

That was when he'd hit on the idea of killing the lights in the hopes of telling her in the dark, from the doorway; the darkness would let him be a little braver, he thought.

But what would it achieve?

_At the very least, _he told himself, _I'll get it out of my system._

His mind made up, Syaoran reached for the light switch before he could change his mind.

**Continued in Part Two: Halfway Between Twilight and Darkness**

**xXxSxSxXx**

**Author's notes: **This (and boreum dal's "Sleep") is the result of a writing challenge. I was stuck with a scene in "The Accidental Playboy" chapter 12; this was meant to be part of it but evolved into an entirely different story altogether. I decided to break it into three parts; it's complete and will be posted rapidly (utterly shameless hint: guess what makes me want to post immediately?). I would love to know how you respond to this, so please do let me know? Thanks!

Next chapter up on or before Syaoran's birthday!

Oh and this is probably my only T fic!


	2. Chapter 2

**Darkness Falls, Chapter 2  
**

**Previously: **

"_Don't do that," he said, very quietly, as he pushed her knee away. "Please." _

"_Why are you doing this? Let me go! Help!" Sakura screamed. A hand came down on her mouth, muffling her._

"_Shh." The voice was rough, as if it was rarely used, but oddly nonthreatening. "I'll let go if you don't scream. Nod if you agree."_

That voice.

_Low and guttural, Sakura realized whoever it was, was disguising his voice. He's someone I know then, she realized. She nodded slowly but with exaggerated motions to make sure he understood, taking a chance that he was not lying._

"_Please don't hurt me," she said softly when his hand was lifted. Yamazaki's stories of girls being molested or raped ran through her head, and she could feel tears beginning to form in her eyes._

_The boy holding her started. "What? Of-of course not!" He forgot to disguise his voice, yelping indignantly. "I would never . . . I would never hurt you!"_

I know that voice! _Sakura thought._ But who?

**xXxSxSxXx**

**Part Two: Halfway Between Twilight and Darkness**

Syaoran took a deep breath, not caring if she heard. "I . . ."

Then he realized she was shivering in his hold, and momentarily he was ashamed of himself for scaring her this way. But all the frustration, all the times he'd tried to show her how he felt, his inability to tell her to her face . . . and now . . . she would soon have a boyfriend.

A boyfriend who was **not** him.

_So you decide to confront her in darkness, _a voice in his head taunted. _Coward._

He closed his eyes, then muttered, "You can't be his."

"Ho . . . what?"

"Your . . . that guy. Your b-boyfriend. Akira Todoh . . . " How hard was it to say the word? "I . . . I can't . . ."

His breathing was labored, and for a terrifying moment Syaoran thought he was going to cry_. No, fuck it, no no no! It wasn't supposed to be this way!_

"Boyfriend?" Her tone was confused.

"I want you," he blurted out.

She started and he scolded himself when she cringed; that sounded like something a pervert would say!

"I won't lose to him," he said quietly. "You . . . you're mine."

A long silence, tense as a stretched wire, hung between them.

**xXxSxSxXx**

_I know that voice!_ Sakura thought.

Rough. Tense. But there was a strange undertone of gentleness to it, something that resonated with her. She ventured a question.

"Why didn't you just tell me then?" Her voice was small, confused and somewhat hurt. "Why this way? Why not just . . . why . . ."

What she couldn't ask: _Why won't you show me who you are? Why didn't you approach me before Todoh did? _

"Why would you want someone like me?" His voice was bitter. "Not when one of the most handsome boys in school wants you."

"That's not true," Sakura said.

He choked, something like a bitter half-laugh, and Sakura, though she could not explain it—she wanted to help this boy, this oddly comforting stranger whose pain felt real.

_Why does he hate himself so?_

She could feel him clenching and unclenching his fists, making sounds that told her he was trying to say something but was failing at it.

"Is . . . is there something you want to say?" she asked.

More of the incoherent sounds, then suddenly the boy tore his arms off her and hurled himself away-but not without making sure she was safely on her feet first. "I can't! Fucking hell, I just can't!" He smashed his fist on a locker, and cried out; the pain exploded like little stars in the dark and he cursed.

Sakura gasped. The agony in his voice was painful to hear; it was like he had suffered years of torment, though she knew not why or how.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

A dry chuckle told her he almost laughed. Why did he stifle his laughter anyway? It forcibly reminded her of how Syaoran had never laughed in class; the most even the class clown Yamazaki had gotten out of him was a choked half-laugh.

_Stop it, Sakura, he can't possibly be Syaoran! Why would he sound so agonized over you, of all people? You just __**want**__ it to be him!_

Sakura's eyes had managed to adjust to the darkness enough to see his outline; against all logic, against the voice in her head screaming at her to _run, run away now!_ she made her way to him.

He almost jumped when he felt her touch him.

"Are you all right?" Sakura repeated.

"Me?" _I should let you go,_ he thought, but he remembered he'd locked the door behind him. Oh God she was going to think he was trying to hurt her!

"Why did you hit the locker? You hurt yourself," she said gently.

"Because I didn't want to scare you," he blurted. "I . . . I never wanted to hurt you . . . s-so it made more sense to hurt . . . well, myself."

Sakura giggled. "That's silly."

"Never mind me." He took her hand in both of his; she almost drew back, but he stroked it gently. Her skin was soft and warm, and he liked the feel of her hand in his.

"So small," he murmured.

She put her other hand on top of his.

"You have strong hands," she said.

He shook his head, then remembered she couldn't see him.

"Can I . . ." What? What was he going to ask her? He sighed softly and played with a tendril of her hair.

Sakura almost gasped. Once, a few months ago, Syaoran had done the same thing in class; he'd been almost playful that day, and she'd felt a gentle tugging on her hair. She'd turned to find him playing with it, looking fascinated; when she smiled at him, he'd blushed and let go.

And now this strange boy was doing the same thing.

_I wish you would stop reminding me of Syaoran!_

Sometimes, emotions can manifest themselves as a physical force; in Syaoran's case, his chest felt like he was full of what he felt for Sakura. He touched her cheek gently.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked softly, her hand on his.

"I . . . I don't know."

Then suddenly he folded her into his arms.

"You . . ." He breathed in the flowery scent of her hair; she'd kept her golden brown hair as short as it had been when they had been children. In his arms she was small—so small a girl to hold his heart and his world in her hands. Here, in the darkness, he felt he could express himself far better by holding her, with little touches and caresses. In the darkness, he was brave.

How long had he felt this way about her? Syaoran had no idea; it was like suddenly he'd woken up one day to find that no day was complete without her.

Then he dared say the word he'd never had the right to say: her name.

"Sakura," he whispered.

Standing there, holding her in the darkness, Syaoran could pretend, even if for a while, that she was his, and he was her lover.

He bent his head, whispering, "Just for a while. Please."

Syaoran held her to his chest, his eyes closed. So this was what it was like to hold Sakura close. It was like holding something warm he never wanted to let go of, and since she had stopped shivering and had relaxed in his gentle hold, the illusion was complete.

Like he was her lover.

Sakura was still in his arms, her forearms on his chest, clutching at his school blazer. She lowered her head onto his chest. Nothing made sense; why should she trust this stranger? She should be running away, screaming for help, anything but this!

_Hold me a little longer, _she thought, as she closed her eyes and told herself she was in Syaoran's arms. And the world became a little smaller, and safer.

**xXxSxSxXx**

So many things he wanted to say; the thoughts rushed at him, confusing him and rendering him silent. He had no idea which to say first, much less how to say it.

"Don't be afraid," he said softly as he touched her chin.

And then his lips touched hers.

**xXxSxSxXx**

Sakura was beginning to relax. He wasn't going to hurt her; if he were, why was he holding her so gingerly, as if he was afraid he would break her?

And there was the way he whispered her name: reverently, like a small prayer.

Something about him made her feel oddly safe; even the strange noises of the building—little creaks, muffled thuds, sounds of an aging building in the night—no longer bothered her. It was like he had come to protect her; if he wanted to force himself on her, he would have done so already. Instead he'd held her close, in an embrace that was warm and protective.

It was almost like the way she felt when Syaoran was around, although that was impossible; she'd heard him, Eriol, and Yamazaki making plans to go to Tomoeda Arcade earlier, and they'd left the classroom together.

Besides . . . he had never reacted when she and Tomoyo had the conversation they had rehearsed several times in hopes of getting a reaction out of him. So Sakura concluded that Syaoran didn't want her that way. And the longing in his voice told her that this boy could not be him, no matter how much she **wanted** it to be Syaoran. Because she had never heard that sad, lonely longing in Syaoran's voice. Not for her.

_If only it were Syaoran saying these things to me!_

Then she felt his kiss; it was a gentle touch, like droplets of a rain shower. It was tentative and yet sweet; she hadn't expected it, but this kiss felt like she meant the world to him, his lips touching hers softly and tenderly.

She couldn't help it; she began to cry. This was wrong, because this kiss was what she had imagined her first kiss to be like: perfect. Like they were discovering kissing together, and making something wonderful out of it.

And she had imagined that it would be Syaoran holding her this way, kissing her tenderly.

Then he drew away, holding her face in his hands, and saying, "Don't cry."

She choked, and pressed her face into his chest. Those were Syaoran's words as well, and with the darkness and her eyes closed, she could almost pretend it was him holding her, comforting her in the darkness. Her hands turned into fists, and she grabbed the front of his shirt as she wept.

"Syaoran," she whispered softly into his chest.

_If only you were Syaoran!_ Her tears fell quietly, and he held her, wordlessly comforting her in her sorrow.

Had it been some other place, some other time, Syaoran would have heard her say his name, and realized that there was the possibility for love to bloom, that the tiny seeds of happiness existed in both their hearts.

But in this world, he never heard her say his name.

**xXxSxSxXx**

_I'm sorry._

He couldn't say the words; something tight was in his throat when he realized Sakura was crying. Had he taken her first kiss away from her? Had he hurt her?

She meant so much to him, and the moment he'd walked into the classroom, everything had gone wrong. He hadn't been able to confess; he hadn't been able to tell her anything he felt.

Syaoran swallowed, touching his forehead to hers, not feeling how the blindness in his eyes—which wasn't due to the darkness—had become a watery blur.

"D-don't . . . don't cry," he said softly; his hands came up to cradle her face, and his thumbs wiped the tears away. "Please."

**xXxSxSxXx**

Sakura felt the moisture on her forehead, and almost thought it was rain.

_He's crying!_

Hiccupping, she reached up and felt his face blindly until she found two rivulets of tears, one on each cheek.

_Somehow I've hurt him too, _she thought. Nothing made sense in the situation until she remembered what she had whispered earlier.

_He must have heard me call him by Syaoran's name,_ she realized, shame washing over her. How could she have been so thoughtless?

"I'm sorry," she whispered. _Sorry I called you by the name of the one I want to love me._

**xXxSxSxXx**

Syaoran released Sakura gently. No matter how he wanted the moment to last, this was wrong and he was taking advantage of her sweet nature.

He couldn't live with himself for that.

"I don't deserve you," he said as guided her to a chair. "There. You'll be all right now. Just stay there," he said.

"Where are you going?"

Syaoran groped his way to the door; it wasn't just the darkness blinding his eyes now. At the back of his mind something screamed, _Don't leave her alone!_ But he couldn't deal with this. Not now.

Not ever.

Not when there was no hope that she could possibly be his, let alone love him.

_She said she was sorry._

_She's sorry because she can't return your feelings._

_And I couldn't say anything. Couldn't apologize, couldn't tell her what I felt, couldn't even tell her who I was._

"Wait!"

_She knows what I'm going to do!_

"Who are you?" Sakura screamed, in desperation standing up and barking her shin on a chair; the pain stopped her for a crucial few seconds, during which he fled towards the door. "Don't leave me! Please wait!"

"Please have a happy life," he said softly as he flicked on the lights and fled as they momentarily blinded her.

**xXxSxSxXx**

Sakura sat blinking in the sudden light. He was gone, whoever he was, leaving behind only five words: a wish for her to be happy in life.

_Why?_

She touched her lips; she could still almost feel him there. Was it possible to taste love in a single kiss? This boy had loved her, she knew it . . . and had she been faster, had he just waited, maybe, just maybe . . .

_No._ It was wishful thinking. She only felt that way because she desperately wanted that boy to be Syaoran.

Making her way blindly out of the school, Sakura wished she could have just seen one part of him: his hands, his hair, anything. But her tears had prevented her from seeing something to remember him by.

**xXxSxSxXx**

Syaoran sat quietly in the guidance counselor's office, listening to Okioji-sensei's comments.

"Your record is almost perfect, Li-san. Why would you risk it by pulling out of Seijyu at this point? It's only halfway through the school year . . . if you have a problem, why not talk to us about it?'

_You can't help me,_ Syaoran thought ruefully. _Not unless you can make it so that this is a world in which Sakura loves me._

"I'm all right, sir," was all he said.

Okioji gave Syaoran a sharp look which said he wasn't fooled, then sighed. "All right then. We'll send your transcript to Hong Kong within the week. Here's your clearance. I just think you shouldn't be leaving so quickly."

Syaoran nodded. "Thank you, sir." He stood up and picked up the light blue folder with his school papers in them, and walked towards the door.

"Will you go to your classroom tomorrow?"

"No, sir."

"But don't you want to say goodbye to your friends?" Okioji asked, puzzled. "Isn't there anyone special you want to say goodbye to?"

_There is, _Syaoran thought, _but it will be better for her and for me if I just vanish from her life._

"No, sir."

"You may go then."

And Syaoran strode out into the deepening darkness of the early evening, which swallowed him almost lovingly, erasing all trace of him.

**xXxSxSxXx**

**Continues in Part Three: Into the Light**

_Please feel free to speculate as to the ending; I'd love to know what you think, and thanks for the reviews (see how fast I updated, ahead of my self-imposed deadline? XD haha shameless)! Part 3 will be up just a bit after Syaoran's birthday, so please stay tuned.  
_


	3. Chapter 3

**Darkness Falls, Chapter Three (The End)**

**Author:** **swallowingtears**

**Disclaimer:** No profit is being made off this fanfiction. No challenge is intended towards CLAMP, the rightful owners of the characters here.

**Warnings:** Only for language.

**Genre: **Romance/Angst.

**Summary: **_She knew that voice."I want you," he blurted. "I won't lose to him. You . . . you're mine." Sakura stays late one evening at school and hears a desperate confession._

**Previously: **_Sakura sat blinking in the sudden light. He was gone, whoever he was, leaving behind only five words: a wish for her to be happy in life._

Why?

_She touched her lips; she could still almost feel him there. Was it possible to taste love in a single kiss? This boy had loved her, she knew it . . . and had she been faster, had he just waited, maybe, just maybe . . ._

No_.__ It was wishful thinking. She only felt that way because she desperately wanted that boy to be Syaoran._

_Making her way blindly out of the school, Sakura wished she could have just seen one part of him: his hands, his hair, anything. But her tears had prevented her from seeing something to remember him by._

**XxSxSxXx**

**Part Three: Into the Light**

When Sakura arrived at her gate, disheveled and with eyes red from crying, Tomoyo knew everything they had planned had gone terribly wrong.

She ran to open the gate herself, and Sakura had tumbled into a sobbing heap in her arms. She'd helped her friend into the house, and once in the safety of Tomoyo's bedroom, served Sakura tea and her favorite chocolate chip cookies. It worked; the distraught girl calmed down long enough to tell her what had happened at school earlier.

". . . and I d-drove him away, I c-called him by Syaoran's name and I . . . Oh Tomoyo-chan, what if? What if he . . . he was the one . . . I so wanted him to be Syaoran, Tomoyo-chan, I . . . "

Sakura was crying hard because her confusion and longing kept telling her it was Syaoran, but then it didn't make sense. Why would he behave that way, after all? He was always calm, quiet, and stoic; the emotional, distraught boy who had tried so hard to reach her reminded her so much of Syaoran when he was upset, but could he truly be that upset over her?

Lessons learned with Yukito Tsukishiro had taught her to stop projecting, to avoid pointless wishful thinking. And yet . . .

". . . he sounded like Syaoran, he did, and (sob) I wish it were him! But he c-couldn't be like that, right? It was just m-me, forcing my feelings on some other boy . . . I mean, he d-did cry when I said Syaoran's name . . ."

Tomoyo stroked Sakura's bobbed hair and cast about her head quickly. Something in Sakura's story was nagging at her but she couldn't pick up on it, not now when the most important thing was to calm Sakura down. It did not do to let Sakura cry herself out; Tomoyo had long since learned that Sakura thought better when she was calm. And so, talking in her most soothing voice, Tomoyo took Sakura through the story again, clarifying details, and helping Sakura come to a slow realization of what she wanted the most.

_I want that boy to have been Syaoran._

**xXxSxSxXx**

_He's not here._

Sakura fought the urge to keep twisting in her seat. Class wasn't the same when Syaoran wasn't around; his reassuring presence was missing, and it was like a gaping hole was behind her, where his seat was.

What had happened? Sakura's heart kept leaping each time she thought, _could it have been Syaoran who was in here with me the other day?_

In an age of Internet connections, cell phones, and openness, Syaoran Li was a notable exception; a private person, he didn't go for Facebook, didn't have an online presence aside from his school email. Sakura had his cell number, but she didn't know if she had the right to call him.

_Oh if I were American! _Sakura found herself wishing. Over there people called each other freely without fear of protocol or offense. Friends called friends all the time in America, Tomoyo had told her; they called for any reason, and even those who weren't close didn't find it odd for a casual acquaintance to call out of the blue.

But she'd only called Syaoran thrice in three years—each conversation a short, silence-punctuated one. It must be heaven to be so casual with a friend, without need for levels of formality or for last names or for other such concerns.

But what happened during homeroom at the end of the school day would force her into action. Sensei Yoshiyuki Terada, normally a cheerful teacher, looked at his class mournfully, his eyes resting on the empty chair behind Sakura Kinomoto. It was the last period of the day, and the students were restless, all itching to go home or out to play. He finished taking the roll call, then shook his head when he noted that Li Syaoran was absent.

"Hiiragizawa-kun?" he called.

"Yes, Sensei?"

"Here is the key to Li-kun's locker. He's transferred out, and gave no word on the disposition of his effects."

Gasps and whispers spread through the class, but Tomoyo Daidouji immediately looked at Sakura, who looked like all the blood had drained out of her face.

"Why . . . why didn't he tell me?" she whispered.

A flabbergasted Eriol Hiiragizawa raised his hand. "He said nothing of this to me, Terada-sensei, and I'm one of his friends."

"I'm sorry," and Yoshiyuki Terada truly was; Li had been one of the better students, well-behaved and not a troublemaker.

"But sensei, why?"

"He gave no reason to Okioji-sensei, our guidance counselor, but it seems he has personal business to take care of back home."

"Sensei?" Sakura raised her hand tentatively. "Please, is he all right?"

From the way her voice quavered, Tomoyo knew how much the question had cost Sakura to ask.

Terada-sensei looked thoughtful. "I'm sorry, but I can't say." He cleared his throat, then, "Yamazaki-kun, that will be the last question. Go on."

"Sensei, he left a lot of stuff with us. I have his iPod, his books and stuff are in his locker, and . . ."

"You can try contacting him, but he did say he wasn't coming back for anything."

More whispers and muttering broke out, and Terada sensei rapped the table. "That's enough, students. Now on to the homeroom announcements . . ."

_He didn't leave me with anything I can return, _Sakura thought frantically. _I need to see him, just to say goodbye, just to wish him well . . ._

**Wish . . .**

What was it the boy last night had said?

"_Please have a happy life . . ."_

_It can't be!_

"Tomoyo-chan!" Sakura said; her voice rang overly loud in the classroom and their teacher turned to look.

"Is there a problem, Kinomoto-san?" he asked.

"No . . . Sorry, sensei," she said, bowing her head. But her overbright eyes told Tomoyo that she'd figured something out.

"Sometimes," Tomoyo said quietly so only Sakura could hear, "the question isn't what you want most and how selfish you're willing to be to get it, but how much we want something because that something—or someone—is very important to us, and they don't know it."

The rest of the class rushed to the doors as the bell rang, and Sakura stood up, taking her best friend's hand in hers. "I need your help," she pleaded.

"Say no more." The two girls rushed out the door, both praying they wouldn't be too late.

**xXxSxSxXx**

Syaoran rubbed at his eyes; it was dark and he was tired. He'd spent the whole day packing, taking a break only to get his clearance from school while everyone else was in class. Outside, beyond his open apartment door, seven neatly labeled and sealed boxes—clothes, furniture, books, and so on—were stacked in the hallway, ready for the van that would take them away in the morning, and he was working on the last box.

Amazing how much flotsam and jetsam a single person could accumulate; Syaoran found that putting things in the "Donate/Discard" box was harder than anything else he'd done. So many memories. So many things that meant so much to him.

But each time his mind came back to the girl he didn't want to leave.

**Sakura.**

He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth. Had he been more in control, more confident, at least he would have had an answer. But he couldn't bear to go back to Seijyu anymore. He'd spent too long in its halls to be able to walk through them without thinking of her.

_Maybe if I cry my eyes won't hurt, _he thought with dark humor. But this last box was what hurt the most to pack. In it were his grade, middle, and high school yearbooks. He didn't even have to list the contents; he knew there was a teddy bear there that Sakura had made in class a few years ago and given to him after he'd shyly offered his bear to her. Several photos in their frames, wrapped in bubble wrap, held pictures of him in groups—and always in that group, Sakura was there. Three large frames had Sakura's yearbook photos for the last three years of high school—Eriol and Takashi had stolen the originals, had them blown up then given them to him for Christmas and his birthday.

Best of all were the little presents Sakura gave him every Christmas since they had been in grade school, all with their original wrappings preserved; there was a mechanical pencil, a chopstick case, and a set of erasers, among others. Her quiet thoughtfulness always made him smile.

Memories of the girl he loved but couldn't have.

For some reason, Takashi's silly quotes stuck to his head. "'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all," he once told Syaoran when a girl had turned Takashi down.

Then there was, "You can't feel the hurt if you've never suffered the pain." Syaoran had no idea where that one had come from.

But the words that hurt most were simple: "I love you." And he'd been completely unable to tell Sakura of his feelings.

"So tell me this," Syaoran asked the empty room, "is it better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all? But what if the other person never even knew?" Immediately he felt embarrassed. Why was he talking to himself?

"I must be stupid," he muttered. "No, I _**am**_ stupid. I love her so much I can't think, and now I . . ."

Syaoran began to laugh, a hollow, bitter laugh that rang overloud in his near-empty apartment. "I am an idiot. I love her and I lost her because I myself blew my only chance with her! Look at me, saying more words in this room now than I ever did to her. Ha!" He leaned his forehead against the nearest wall.

"Love and loss . . . so they do go together, after all," he said.

The lights in his living room suddenly went off, and Syaoran frowned in annoyance; he'd packed his flashlight already. But he could hear someone closing his apartment door.

"Who's there?" he called out, and he dropped into a fighting stance after telling himself how stupid it was to even ask that question. Was it a robber?

"I wonder," a soft voice replied, "what it would be like if we could just love without losing."

A girl's voice.

"What?"

"You said you would never hurt me," she continued quietly as she stepped towards him; Syaoran was frozen on the spot, because if his ears weren't deceiving him, this was **her** voice.

"I . . . what?"

She stopped in front of him, unerringly navigating his empty living room to where he was standing, and placed a hand on his arm.

"You're hurting me now," she said softly. "You didn't even say goodbye. How can I have a happy life if you're not in it?"

_Sakura?_

A light clicked on, a tiny pocket torch. Pink, no less. Sakura's hurt eyes looked up at him.

"I'll ask you again. You said you would never hurt me, just the other day. But then when I came to class the next day, you weren't there, then this afternoon we heard that Li Syaoran was transferring out." Sakura clutched at his shirt. "Do you know how **much** you hurt me with that?"

"I . . ."

The light clicked off. "I felt like someone had punched a hole through me. Here," and Sakura placed her hand on her chest, above her heart. "And do you know why? Because I've _always_ loved you. There, I've said it—what I thought I would never get a chance to say."

From her hitching breath and nasal tone, he realized she was about to cry. "You wished for me to have a happy life, back on that camping trip in May. And you said it again the other day. That's how I was sure it was you, when I finally worked it out." She let out a tiny giggle.

"Wh . . ."

"I was in the dark," Sakura said. "I thought I knew you, that I saw you for who you are. You showed me a part of you I've never seen, and even if it scared me . . . All the time I was wishing it was you in the classroom with me, and it **was** you after all. If only I'd known!"

"Y-you wanted it . . . to be me?" he asked wonderingly.

"Yes!" Her voice was loud, though it quavered. "I couldn't see what was in front of me because I thought I didn't . . . Why did you do that anyway?"

He ran his hands through his hair. "I . . . I wanted to say something to you, but I kind of . . . lost the nerve."

_What an understatement, _he scolded himself. _You scared her instead!_

"You kissed me," Sakura said softly.

"I . . . Sorry . . ."

"Don't be!" Her tone was vehement. "I **felt** your feelings in that kiss! But if you leave, that makes it all a lie, doesn't it?"

Unable to think of anything to say, Syaoran reached out tentatively for her shoulder, following the line of her arm to find her. She caught his hand and nuzzled it with her cheek. "Why? Why would you do that then leave?"

"You . . . I didn't mean to hurt you," Syaoran whispered as he touched her cheek tenderly. "I just thought . . . you liked him . . . Todoh A-akira . . ."

She chuckled bitterly. "Is that it? You thought I was going to say yes? When you didn't react after Tomoyo-chan and I talked about Akira-kun in front of you, I thought you didn't care about me at all. But when you kissed me . . . when you said those words . . . I knew I had to find you. I'm sorry it took me some time to realize it was you. If you'd just reacted when we started talking in front of you . . . I thought it would never work!"

"In . . . in front of me?" Syaoran repeated stupidly.

"I just wanted to know what you thought of me," Sakura said, and he felt a tear creep past his hand; he stroked her cheek with her thumb, brushing away the tear.

"Sorry," he said. "If I knew . . . I just . . . You wanted to know what I thought?"

She chuckled softly; he was, after all, talking rather silly. "Yes, 'cause you never say much." She leaned her head on his chest. "Are you really leaving now?"

He swallowed past the lump in his throat. "I . . . But you . . . Do you want me to?"

She giggled. "Li-kun . . ."

"No. Syaoran," he said abruptly. "Call me Syaoran."

Sakura gasped. No one else called him by his name.

"Syaoran," she breathed softly.

That one word, two syllables . . . they floated past his heart where something like a light had been kindled.

He felt her arms wrap around his waist, and he drew her closer, holding her in his arms.

"I'm sorry . . . I just . . . If I'd known what you wanted, I would have . . ." And he lost his nerve.

"Would have?" Sakura prompted gently.

"Would have . . . let you know . . . I didn't want you to . . . be with Todoh," he said.

"Why?"

"Because I . . ." He took a deep breath, then, "Because . . . Iloveyou," the words rushed out. "So much . . ."

Sakura stilled, and Syaoran was terrified he'd scared her off.

"I'm sorry . . ."

"Stop _saying_ that," Sakura said. "Please stop apologizing. But please . . . say it again. For me."

Syaoran bent down so he could whisper in her ear. "I love you."

"My name," she said, as she choked back a sob. "Add my name, please."

Reverently, he obeyed. "I love **you**, Sakura." He could repeat it all day if she wanted to hear it.

She giggled, but it was mixed with a sob. "Do you know how often I wished I would hear that from you?"

"So . . . I mean, I . . ."

"Aren't you forgetting something?"

"What?"

"We've both said it," and her tone was playful. "Something comes next, after 'I love you.' Don't you know?"

For that he didn't need a cue. He didn't need the light either; he bent down and, guided by his instincts, he claimed her lips with his.

_Those romantic songs lied,_ they both thought. The first kiss wasn't the best, and neither was the second.

_All_ of them were.

**xXxSxSxXx**

"What do you mean you **tried** to transfer out? The rumors were true?" Outraged, Eriol folded his arms and glared at Syaoran the next day. "You didn't even tell us! And we didn't see you at the usual corner where we all meet to go to school. We couldn't get in touch, you just disappeared off the face of the earth!"

"Was kinda busy," Syaoran muttered, blushing. The boys in the classroom were clustered around him, demanding to know why he'd vanished the past two days, and he'd made the mistake of taking out his clearance from his satchel so he could return it to the principal before class started. Eriol had seen it, and things went downhill from there.

"Busy? And you didn't even have time to tell your friends, the ones who love you the most? Ah, Li-kun, you are the worst," Yamazaki clutched at his heart to dramatize his feelings.

"I . . ." What Syaoran was going to say vanished when he heard someone call, "Syaoran-kun!" from the door.

"Syaoran?" Eriol raised his brows and glanced at the person who had called Syaoran's name.

"Since when does Sakura-san call you by your name and we don't?" he asked pointedly.

Sakura bounced to Syaoran's side and kissed his cheek; he stood up, took her hand, and returned her kiss gently as she giggled happily.

"Since I kept a promise I made to her," was all he said to Eriol.

"Shall we go to the principal's office, Sakura?" he asked. "I've got papers to return and a readmission letter to submit, along with an apology."

"And whose fault was that?" Sakura playfully taunted.

"All mine," was Syaoran's cheerful response.

"Okay, let's go then!"

As the two walked out of the classroom, hand in hand, one boy whistled and Yamazaki blinked as he said, "Whoa."

"Did you know about this?" he asked Eriol.

"About what? When those two stopped dancing around each other and became a couple?" Eriol took off his glasses and rubbed his temples.

"Yeah. I mean . . . am I the only one who missed something here?"

Eriol crossed his arms and grinned. "I'm just as much in the dark as you are. But I'm sure that whatever happened will make a great story."

**The End**

**xXxSxSxXx**

Thanks to those who reviewed anonymously!

Whoever's been adding me to communities, I owe you a special thank you for helping me reach out to more readers! Please do keep adding me to your communities!

I owe **boreum dal** a debt of thanks for giving me the elements for this writing challenge and for helping shape it. Originally it was meant to be part of the next chapter of "The Accidental Playboy" until emo Syaoran went and did something else entirely, demanding a separate story for him and Sakura (haha). I didn't want the whole thing to go to waste, so here's the threeshot that resulted from me trying to break through writer's block.

Challenges are fun, and if you'd like one, just PM me with a genre and I'll send you one! While I can't guarantee I can beta or read through it (sorry, working girl putting in OT to move apartments yet again), I gladly give away those ideas to anyone who asks.


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